Were you listening to me, or were you looking at the woman in the red dress?

Last time around, I wrote about the stresses of navigating the choppy seas and treacherous winds of the infamous Girls’ Night Out. If you’ll recall, I made mention of the darkness that is the dreaded Circle of Death, a terrifying feminine fortress that has dashed more men’s hopes than Obama’s first term. Oh, that circle may look harmless enough, but be ye not fooled. These sirens‘ greatest joy is to toy with a man, leading him ever closer to their shores until, before he knows it, his ship is splintered on their estrogen encrusted rocks.

Even if you’ve got Travolta’s moves, look like that kid Eggs from Trueblood, and are a certified mack daddy, you might still get totally crossed out. This leaves a lot of us handsome, skilled dancer types scratching our heads. “I was polite. I smiled. I didn’t stare at her breasts (that much). Why did she diss me?”

To fully grasp what’s going on here, you’ve got to understand the basic structure of female social group dynamics. Surprise, surprise, they’re strikingly different from those of males.

Male social groups are organized pretty much like fighter squadrons. They can execute coordinated attacks, but are completely willing and able to break apart as necessary to accomplish the current mission. On the other hand, female social groups operate using a totally different configuration. More often than not, they’re arranged like teams of escort fighters aligned with a single bomber. Those escorts will fight tooth and nail to protect that bomber, and would rather crash and burn than lose it to the testicularly endowed enemy.

Each group member has a role to play in the sociosexual war, and though the lyrics change from crew to crew, the song remains the same. Here’s a quick rundown of the usual cast of characters:

Prom Queen –She’s fine and errrbody knows it (including her). She’s been showered with male attention since junior high and getting hit on is as common for her as misspelled signs are at a Tea Party rally.

Big Mama – Who run it? Yep, you guessed it. Big Mama is the matriarch of the group, and while she may not have absolute authority, her opinion is so influential that it’s de facto law. Basically, she’s the U.S. and her crew is like the U.N. They can do whatever they wanna do…but there will be consequences.

Runner-Up – She’s kinda cute. She’s got spunk. Still, line her up next to Prom Queen and Big Mama, and she’s just not quite there. Maybe it’s something really small, like her left eye is kinda sleepy. Or perhaps it’s a glaring deficiency, like a chest so flat its freakin’ concave. At the same time, she always manages to come up short in battles for leadership: Big Mama’s beak just keeps on pecking the bird shit out of her.

Gotta Man – Who cares. Kidding. Her relationship status makes her a wildcard. She could be your best friend, encouraging her girls to enjoy life to the fullest, living vicariously through them. Or she could be a spiteful ass hater whose unhappy relationship causes her to view all men through shit colored spectacles. Dicey.

Ugly Betty – Yeah, so…the name pretty much says it all. She may be a straight sweetheart, or an acid spewing bitch, but regardless of the multifaceted and richly textured personality within her, we know one thing for certain: babygirl is as ugly as the black unemployment rate.

Wherever she goes, Prom Queen is the center of attention. When she’s around, heads turn, eyes widen, tongues wag. The spotlight shines steadily on this scion of Venus and more than a little on anyone around her…which is why her friends are so fiercely protective. She’s one bangin’ ass bomber and they’re her zealously protective escorts.

If some dude comes along and snatches her up, they’re afraid that they’ll have to kiss the attention leftovers goodbye and prepare for a long, cold winter. That ain’t about to go down, at least not without a fight.

When a dude enters Prom Queen’s airspace, the escorts immediately fly into defensive formation. Instead of clearing out to give you room, they remain half an arm’s length away, shooting mind bullets indiscriminately and hoping that the initial barrage alone is enough to dissuade you. Assuming you bravely continue, they’ll move on to such battle-tested tactics as Intermittent Interruption, in which they make excuses to fuck up the flow of your conversation with crap that not even their nosy ass mother would care to hear. “I think I found a new spin instructor. Cortez is fabulous!” What?! The fuck outta here with that buuuhlshit!

Anyway, if all else fails, they bring out the big guns. That’s when someone nonchalantly says, “It’s corny in here. Let’s go.” That person is usually Big Mama, and Runner-Up and Ugly Betty are almost always down to follow her nut-crunching lead. At that point, you can only hope that you’ve fired enough well-placed shots to disrupt communications between Prom Queen and her escorts, enabling you to separate her from her crew and finish the job. If not, you may as well say your prayers. ‘Cause you’re gonna die. When your plane crashes. Metaphorically.

And that’s too bad. I really wish women would understand that their pretty friend need not be their only path to attention from the opposite sex.

Big Mama, channel all that aggression toward the man at the bar who you’ve been eyeing all night. Use those huge balls of yours for good, not evil!

Runner-Up, realize that to somebody in the room, you’re actually a Prom Queen. Stop doubting and own your strength and beauty.

Gotta Man, let somebody else grab a little piece of happiness, even if you fucked yours all the way up the wrong end. Be a cockbooster, not a cockblocker!

Ugly Betty, I’ll level with you. Yours is not an angel’s face, but maybe you do have an angel’s heart. Let it show. Oh, and usually the ugly girls get like at least one freakishly dope body part, so accentuate the hell outta them breastesses and/or that derriere. It won’t hurt.

Feel like I missed something? Want the conversation to continue? Drop a comment below, hit me up on Facebook, or follow @scissorspeaks on Twitter.

5 responses to “F*ck Girls’ Night Out: Part II”

After last night… I’m with you Fuck girls night out. lol Seriously, It (the male/female) interaction is a lot more complicated than it needs to be. We spend more time being what we are supposed to be than who/what we truly are. Especially when societal norms don’t fit our spirit, energy, likes, desires, tendencies, etc. We try to fit into what we have been taught is appropriate behavior and roles. We are attracted to what we have been taught is beautiful. Now don’t get me wrong we aren’t mindless puppets (well not all of us) but we are influenced by society. Women think they are/aren’t pretty based off of norms. When I look in the mirror I see an average looking woman who has many shortcomings and issues. But I also see the deeds I do, the change Ive helped to bring, the wonderful people who love me and the beautiful children I help to create. I know this is a tangent but the bigger issue is how we live our lives. Until we address the bigger societal problems or humanness addressing all these smaller ones are just putting band-aids on a volcano.
Once we have stopped the eruption or at lease gotten a safe distance away from it most of these issues, categories and situation wont exist.
You and I have had a long and intricate relationship without these problems. Imagine if the world interacted as we do……

I have always known that I look good, I *have* the goods, I am responsible for the “fun” and make sure that I bolster my friends with the appreciation they need to have it, I can take the side-car when necessary to let one of my sisters shine, I do right by my man when I have one and when I don’t – I make sure to respect those single men flying around me because they do try damned hard, and I know that not every man will be gifted enough to see how beautiful I am at all times – but I *know* how to show him without being “that girl”

I dislike the herd mentality of the “girls’ night out” – with its tendency towards man-hating. But, I also do not appreciate the balls-out aggression that certain SWAT-teams (Guys’ Night out) exhibit.
Oh sure, I got jokes when I’m with my girls. . but I also appreciate the drinks and the attention and I know that what is on the line for a man isn’t just his time and money. . it is his *pride*

When it comes down to it, I think that a lack of self-esteem really enables the herd mentality. While you will hardly ever find a group of women who each know their worth, if it did happen, I guarantee you the club would morph into a catfight. Quick. So, I will settle for my hand-picked girlfriends who, while they may struggle at times with the value of themselves, know they “got it” but manage modesty.

That said. . I think I should point out that I run with dudes. . and a few close female friends. My husband, D, is comfortable with this.
Females tend to cause most of their own drama – and I can’t hang.

1. I’ve often been the one who breaks lose from the herd and hangs out with the guy, if the guy is interesting enough. And I’ve often sensed – afterwards – that this was not appreciated by the herd (or some parts of it). In the moment I just don’t think about it, because of course we’re out to get attention from guys (note: see below), to claim something different is ridiculous. Instead what this is about is the low self-esteem of the girls left behind. But I can’t take care of that, they’re gonna have to work on that themselves. This also means I’m supportive when girlfriends venture out and I often push them out of the herd, in case the guy approaching them is someone they like.

2. Yes of course we like the attention from men and wouldn’t want to be in an all girls’ club. This, however, does not necessarily mean we want more than looks. Pretty often that type of attention can satisfy my needs on a particular night. I want to know I still have it, but be able to make my own choices.

3. It is and always will be the case that many men walk up to women that are completely out of their league, something that does not happen nearly as often the other way around. This is in my experience the main reason why women individually or in herds treat men like air. What is it with men that make them believe that they are attractive to women just because they are men and give them attention? It breaks down to money and age-old power balances if you ask me. Power balances that are shifting when more and more women are interested in how men look and behave, rather than their money. For me, looks are crucial, because I’m always either consciously or sub-consciously thinking about what my kids would look like with his genes. And if he doesn’t have it he doesn’t. In the past, this was a man’s prerogative, to choose pretty ladies. But we’re turning the tables. So give me a break. Read the situation. Do you match my style, my class, my clothes, my looks? If not, try somewhere else, please. As a woman I’m not interested in attention from men I’m not interested in, and to treat these men like air is my prerogative. Also because many men can’t seem to differentiate between a woman just being polite and not interested, and actually interested. I learned this the hard way. I used to be polite, but I’m usually not anymore. So again, read the situation. Play in your own league, and be happier.